Cross Game: the Beyond
by EPSIL0N
Summary: After the events of "Cross Game," life after baseball awaits the graduates of Seishu High School's baseball team. Ko Kitamura and Aoba Tsukishima turn their attention to one another - exploring the bond they may share for the good and bad times to come.
1. More Than Anyone

_I suggest that anyone who reads this have some knowledge of baseball. "Cross Game" was an amazing story. Knowing some baseball would definitely help the reading experience! READ AND REVIEW!  
_

**Disclaimer**: _I do not own "Cross Game," its story, its characters, names, etc. I am expanding on a pre-created plot and no copyright infringements are intended._

* * *

**I: More Than Anyone**

* * *

Koshien Stadium. It was the bottom of the tenth inning, yet another extended game. His team had just scored four runs at the top of the inning, though. It was up to him to close it out.

"_One more out!_"

"_One more out!_"

"_One more out!_"

Sweat streamed down the sides of his face. Everything seemed hazy from the humidity. The stadium crowd continued to chant the same three words over and over. Despite being covered with layers of dust and grime, he felt as fresh as he possibly could. He felt as if all eyes were on him at the moment. In fact, all eyes were on him.

The starting outfielders, Yashiro, Mitani and Hama gazed in, their legs loose and ready for action. But none of them leaned in any direction. They merely looked in as if they themselves were spectators of this game. For some reason, none of them felt as if the ball had any chance of soaring in their direction.

Daiki Nakanishi, the third baseman, took one step in, as if waiting for the batter to bunt, even on a two-strike count. It wasn't completely illogical. Nakanishi knew very well the batter had a better chance getting on base with a safety bunt on two strikes than freely swinging against this pitcher. He took a step back, back level with the third base bag. There was no need anymore.

Keiichiro Senda, the shortstop, smiled gleefully as his feet shifted side-to-side with hasty energy. He was ready for the ball. He wanted the ball to sail his way so he can show off his dazzling reflexes and footwork. But deep inside, he had a feeling that the ball won't even get close to him. At least, not in the way this game had been going.

The starting second baseman, Ehara, tapped his gloves and eased himself alongside the second base bag. No one was on base. There were two outs. He smiled to his pitcher's back, confident that he can play this last out without his glove.

Yuhei Azuma, the first baseman, stood with his arms crossed and his chest held high. He wasn't even in position. He was standing on the first base foul line, peering toward the mound with his deep, serious eyes. He was walked four times in the first nine innings. But after the hitters before him loaded the bases at the top of the tenth inning, the opposing team had no choice but to pitch to him. Instantly, the scoreless tie was broken when Azuma, arguably the most feared clean-up hitter in the league, launched his grand slam home run. Now a smirk crossed his lips as he waited for his pitcher to finish the game.

Osamu Akaishi, the catcher, glanced toward the dugout at the coach before pointing at the ground. He signaled for a fastball. Akaishi's eyes stared forward without a blink. Unconsciously, he nodded in silent agreement with both himself and the pitcher. This fastball was it. Akaishi knew it. His pitcher knew it. They've been battery-mates for over three years.

Ko Kitamura lifted his left leg with ease as he wound up, stretching both his arms over his head.

"_One more out!_"

"_One more out!_"

It was all smiles around the baseball diamond as Kitamura planted down, hard and firm, with his left foot. His right arm whipped over his head, cutting through the air, past the flexible, twisting motion of his body. Sweat beads scattered everywhere as Kitamura's right leg gracefully followed through. Before he could lift his right hand up to wipe the sweat out of his eyes, the game had already been decided.

"…S-strike out!" the home plate umpire shouted above the deafening cheers from the stadium crowd.

The endless bellows and applause only magnified when Kitamura's final pitch's speed was reported.

160 kilometers per hour, it said on the back screen.

When the baseball left Kitamura's fingertips, it took less than half a second for the ball to smash into Akaishi's glove. The dust settled in the aftermath, showing only an overpowered hitter extending his bat head out in futility and Akaishi's glove enveloping a spinning baseball on the inside corner of home plate.

"Seishu wins it! Ace pitcher Kitamura has sealed his ten-inning, complete game shutout victory with a 160-kph fastball!" the announcer hollered out.

Kitamura pumped his right fist once in this victorious light, taking a moment to glance toward a particular section of the centerfield stands while his teammates mobbed him from every direction.

Aoba Tsukishima helplessly smiled from the front row of the centerfield bleachers. Her sisters, younger Momiji and older Ichiyo, and Ichiyo's fiancé, Junpei Azuma, were cheering wildly, blending into the rowdiness of the crowd. Even though he was swarmed by his teammates, Kitamura seemed to maintain his contact with Tsukishima. The girl kept her modest smile. Happy. Relieved. Proud.

"He put on a great show, didn't he, Ao-chan?" her older sister asked, still applauding with seemingly no end.

"Is it your turn to give him a hug?" her future brother-in-law teased, laughing loudly and blissfully. The girl responded with a death glare.

They're so happy, she thought.

After the stadium was cleared out, the crowds emptied through the exits and the interviews were conducted, the Seishu High School baseball team, winners of the Summer Koshien national baseball tournament, departed for home alongside their families and friends.

"_He could become the best pitcher in Japan._"

* * *

Aoba suddenly embraced Ko from behind.

"Eh?"

Ko dropped his baseball glove onto the dirt and peered over his strong pitching shoulder. Aoba rested her forehead at the center of his back, her arms locked around his torso. Though they were closed, her eyes—in Ko's opinion—were one of her most feminine qualities.

"Aoba?"

Just as suddenly, Aoba scowled and shoved Ko aside, sending the older boy to the dirt floor. Utterly confused, the ace pitcher blinked a few times as he stared wordlessly at the girl.

"It's a hug, a _hug!_" Aoba spat. She crossed her arms and turned her face away, showing Ko nothing more than an over-exaggerated frown. "I figured I owed you one after you… well…"

Ko looked on for a brief moment. As tomboyish as Aoba was, her girlishness still seeped through her t-shirt and sweatpants as if they were a tank top and miniskirt. That and her over-exaggerated scowl still seemed cute, despite her often vicious personality.

"Ah, you don't owe me anything," said Ko, patting the dirt off his t-shirt and picking up his glove as he rose steadily to his feet. "If anything, I'm the one who owes you."

Ko had a knack for putting Aoba into a state of silence. It's either silence or pure chaos. Friendly bickering—could it be called friendly?—were as frequent as times of necessary support. Koshien was over a month ago and so much has happened since then. Aoba shifted her gaze back to Ko from the corner of her eyes. The appreciative words meant quite a lot to her, but she wasn't about to show any sentimental emotions.

"Aren't we dating now?" Ko added. "Hugs don't have to be used for repaying debts—"

"_Hai_, _hai_, I got it," Aoba boldly declared as she punched in her own baseball glove. "Ki-ta-mu-ra-_sen-pai_."

"Still gonna address me like that, huh?" Ko sighed.

"Only when we're alone," Aoba sneered. She spun over to Ko and stuck out her tongue as a taunt, then twirled back to the corner of the playground. She took a baseball out of her duffel bag. "Shall we?"

"Eh… so this was your idea of a date, huh?" Ko sighed emphatically, stopping about sixty feet opposite of Aoba. He squatted down into a catcher's position and held his baseball glove up. "Didn't we always do this anyway?"

"Stop complaining," Aoba countered, firing out a blazing fastball directly into Ko's glove.

"_Itai!_"

Ko tossed the ball back and shook the shock away from his left hand. He resumed his position as Aoba wound up again.

"Yikes!" Ko yelped as the ball smashed into the glove's webbing.

"So, how about it?" Aoba asked. "Do you think it got any faster?"

"Probably," Ko mumbled, tossing the ball back to Aoba. "It's gotta be like… around 150-kph or—"

"Liar."

"Eh?"

"You're a liar, Kitamura. _Sen._ _Pai,_" Aoba responded, enunciating each syllable. She flipped the baseball to the ground, letting it roll a few feet toward Ko.

"Eh?"

"Your turn," said Aoba, herself squatting down into a catcher's position. "I know what 150-kph is."

"Okay, 145 then," Ko said with a smile.

"Go," Aoba commanded, extending her glove forward.

"All right…"

Ko wound up in the same fashion as Aoba, his leg kicking up to almost exactly the same height. He propelled his right arm forward, releasing the baseball around the same point as Aoba. The ball cut through the air with blazing speed, smashing into Aoba's glove in the blink of an eye.

"There, are you—"

"Don't hold back," Aoba muttered, flinging the ball back in Ko's direction.

"Um…"

"That pitch was at the same speed as mine."

"Okay, okay…"

Ko wound up again, this time raising his right leg up just an inch higher than before. He stepped forward, covering a great length before swinging his right arm forward with great force. The ball rocketed out of his hand as he followed through with the rest of his body. Aoba winced as soon as the baseball was caught in the webbing of her glove. The sound from the collision was crisp and incomparably satisfying.

"_Arigato,_" Aoba murmured, dropping the ball out from her glove.

"Aoba?"

"Don't worry, I'm okay," Aoba responded enthusiastically, getting back up on her feet. "I just wanted a feel of that 160-kph fastball again."

Ko sighed. He was starting to wonder if Aoba was seriously only with him because he could throw a 160-kph fastball.

You weren't kidding, Wakaba, thought Ko. Is that really all it takes to get her to like me?

"If Waka-chan's alive to see you today, I bet she'd be proud," Aoba suddenly added in a solemn tone.

"I sure hope she is," answered Ko. The exchanged words brought a powerful wave of nostalgia over Ko. Impulsively, he walked over to Aoba without hesitating a moment and slowly wrapped both his arms around her slender waist. Stunned, Aoba did not react for the first few seconds while Ko held her. "But I hope she'll give some credit to you, at least. I wouldn't be where I am now if it weren't for you."

"Cut the sappy crap," Aoba muttered.

"Gotcha."

"Thanks."

Aoba closed her eyes and rested her arms at Ko's sides. Her heartbeat steadied and her mind gradually felt more at ease.

I still hate him, Aoba thought to herself. I hate him. More than anyone in the world. I still do. I do…

She gripped his t-shirt at the thoughts and buried her face deeper into his chest.

"I hate you," she mumbled incoherently into Ko's chest.

"Yeah, I know," Ko whispered. "Probably more than anyone in the world."

"Always…" Aoba started to sob.

The stubbornness got to her again. The more she sobbed, the tighter she gripped Ko's shirt and the stronger Ko's embrace became. It became a cycle. And each time, Aoba thought she felt even worse. It wasn't frustration. It wasn't love.

It was guilt.

Seven years ago, when Aoba was only ten years old, her older sister, one year her senior, passed away in a tragic water accident. Wakaba Tsukishima drowned while saving a younger swimmer during a summer swim camp. The tragedy never left the Tsukishima family, but neither did it leave Ko Kitamura. Wakaba and Ko were essentially soul mates, both born on the same day, side-by-side in the same hospital. The only element that consistently tried to separate them, back then, was the younger Aoba.

"You shouldn't treat Ko like those other guys. Once he gets serious, he could become the best pitcher in Japan," Wakaba once proclaimed while Aoba was taking batting practice. The younger sister couldn't care any less. She genuinely hated Ko's very existence. On the other hand, Wakaba was quite the opposite. One could say she was in love. Her praise and confidence never waned. "He might even be able to throw 160-kph."

"Huh?" Aoba scoffed cynically. A mocking and incredulous laugh was all that she offered in response.

"Huh? I don't think you believe me," Wakaba argued assertively. "My predictions tend to come true, you know."

Aoba swung hard and launched another baseball as a strong line-drive.

"But even then," Wakaba continued. "You can't steal him away from me, okay?"

Another baseball from the pitching machine fired in Aoba's direction, only to hit the backboard without encountering a swing. Aoba stared back at Wakaba in surprise. Her older sister smiled back contentedly.

That's right, thought Aoba. She loosened her grip on Ko's now wrinkled t-shirt. I've betrayed her.


	2. Grateful

**II: Grateful**

* * *

"Hey, Ko."

Ko tilted his head and faced the young man to his left. Osamu Akaishi seemed to be entranced by the evening clouds. Way back in elementary school years, the brawny catcher used to be a delinquent, one who was easily one of the strongest kids in his age group. About seven years ago, Ko had reasons to fear his current battery-mate. Plenty of reasons.

"What's up?" Ko responded.

The clouds that drifted overhead seemed to be on an endless journey. Who knew where they originated from? The purplish gold that radiated through the cracks of the puffy clouds did not sting the eyes at all. Combined with the cool grass that rested beneath them, along with the gentle autumn breeze that brushed their cheeks, there couldn't possibly be a more relaxing spot in Japan.

"You ever think Wakaba's watching over us? Guiding us every step of the way?"

Ko turned back to face the sky. He contemplated his friend's thoughts.

"Yeah," he answered. "Of course."

He thought about his feelings for Wakaba, the undying feeling, and though he could never let go, he remained composed. He thought about Aoba and his relationship with her. He recalled all the good times and bad times. All those memories flooded his mind for a moment.

"So how are things with the younger Tsukishima?" Osamu asked, this time facing Ko.

"Hey, Akaishi, you're making me sound like some sort of dirtbag…" Ko protested jokingly.

"Oh?" the catcher mused. "That was not my intention. My bad."

"Things are just fine, by the way," Ko countered, shutting his eyes with force and resting his arms behind his head. "Same as usual."

"Good to hear," said Osamu. He kicked his legs up and pulled himself upright, cracked his neck and stretched out his back. "Well, I should be heading back. I oughta help Pops with his late-night shipments."

"Sure thing," Ko droned, his eyes still closed. "Later, Akaishi."

The catcher's footsteps faded away as the soothing sounds of the breeze and rustling trees filled the air. The ambience signifying the end of summer and the beginning of fall filled Ko's ears. It's September, which meant summer break was almost over. In March, he, along with Osamu, Daiki, Yuhei and Keiichiro will graduate from Seishu High School. Life beyond high school baseball will start.

Ah, what should I do? Ko wondered.

Aoba will remain on the baseball team, despite being unable to play simply because she's a girl. Had she been allowed to play, she'd make an excellent starting pitcher or even a starting centerfielder. Even for her slender build, she had a cannon for a throwing arm. Her baseball skills topped most student athletes, but still, she had to deal with the frustrations of not being able to play. And that's where Ko came in. As a pitching proxy, Ko allowed Aoba to act through him on the mound. It was Ko who pointed out the opportunity in the first place.

"_You know how to throw cutters, too, right?_" Ko once asked Aoba during practice. "_Teach me how to throw one later._"

"_Geez, could you stop stealing everything from me?_" Aoba complained in response.

"_Don't be so stingy,_" Ko reasoned. "_Just think of it as if you're pitching through me._"

Aoba seemed to agree in silence. She did teach Ko the cutter afterward. And anyway, it seemed like right when Aoba stopped pitching in official games and Ko joined the baseball team, she had been pitching through him all along. The words represented nothing new; the facts were there the whole time. Together, they accomplished Wakaba's last dream: that they would make it to Koshien.

Did I do the right thing? Ko thought. I'll make her happy, Wakaba. I promise.

* * *

A stocky young man strutted down the concrete path, munching on a chain of sausages stuck on a wooden stake. As he chewed happily on the fatty pork, his wandered to a hooded figure lying on grass near the river.

"_Oy_, Ko!"

"Uh… eh?" Ko sputtered as he sat up. He looked in every direction before checking behind him. Then he sighed. "Yo, Nakanishi."

Daiki Nakanishi yanked the last piece of sausage off the stake and dangled it in front of Ko's face.

"Not after you slobbered all over it," Ko grimaced.

"Suit yourself," said Daiki, shoving the piece into his mouth.

Ko stood up and looked into the horizon. The purplish gold that painted the sky from before now transformed into a gradient of black and dark maroon. The faint light of the moon rested behind the fading clouds. It was going to be a clear night.

"So what have you been up to, Nakanishi?" said Ko. "Now that Koshien's over. And we're graduating pretty soon. And maybe some of us will take entrance exams. Are you—"

"Uh, we still got a few months before we worry about graduating…" Daiki mumbled as he swallowed his last piece of meat. "Ah. Other than that, I think I will take the entrance exams. Maybe find a job somewhere. What about you? Are you gonna shoot for the big leagues?"

"I dunno, maybe…" Ko answered hesitantly. "I think you should, too, though. You're better than most players out there anyway. And you play a great third base—"

"Nah, I'm not cut out to hit the top. If anyone has a chance, it's most likely you and Azuma."

Ko remained silent. He actually didn't honestly consider going professional. Yuhei probably did, but the first baseman's passion for baseball is greater. Ko figured since he never really got into baseball until high school, he is still behind the majority of players. It was an option, and keeping his options open would be the wisest choice.

"Well, it's all up to you. You've got what it takes, Ko," Daiki added before resuming his trek. "Oh, and say hi to Tsukishima for me, will ya? _Ja mata!_"

He waved to his friend's back and stared into the night sky in deep thought. It won't be the same without everyone on the same team. However, that's normal for all sports teams. Members come and go every year. Ko understood this element, but he could not help but feel a little empty when imagining being on a baseball team without some of his closest friends.

Maybe I should stick with sandlot baseball, he thought, ruffling his messy hair. "Oh, crap, what time is it?"

* * *

It was past eight and Ko figured he should be heading back home before his parents start questioning his whereabouts. It was indeed a clear night. The air was fresh and welcoming, not too hot, not too cold. It was one of those nights that begged people to come out and enjoy. There were only a few people wandering up and down the modestly lit streets; the sight of it was calm and serene.

"Yo! Kitamura!" a voice called from behind Ko. "All by your lonesome?"

"Ah, yeah, all alone," Ko answered without looking back.

"Huh? You're ignoring me?" Keiichiro Senda sputtered as Ko continued off on his own.

"Yep," replied Ko, holding up one hand as a sign of goodbye. "Later, Senda."

His house was right around the corner anyway. Ko left the spiky-haired Keiichiro where he was and approached his doorstep.

"_Tadaima,_" Ko called out as soon as he stepped in.

"You came back pretty late," a low, somewhat melancholy voice answered nearby.

"Yeah, I lost track of time," Ko explained. He looked around the living room and kitchen. Yuhei Azuma was buffing his baseball bat, occasionally leaning forward to inspect the bat head for defects. "Hey, Azuma. Where are my parents?"

"They went out to eat."

"And what were you doing all night?"

"Batting cage."

"Did you already eat?"

"Yeah."

"Where?"

"The soba place."

"Akane's?"

"Yeah."

"By yourself?"

"No."

"Who'd you go with?"

"No one you know."

"Tch," Ko mumbled with a scowl on his face. "I still need to eat."

"Go to the Tsukishimas' then."

"Is Aoba there?"

"Shouldn't you know better than me?" Yuhei countered with a slight grin. "But probably. She was at the counter when I was batting."

"I guess I should go," said Ko. "A Napolitan sounds pretty good right now—"

"Ichiyo-nee went out with my brother."

"Ah…"

"And Momiji can't cook."

"I know, I know," Ko sighed. "Wish me luck then."

"Good luck," Yuhei said obligingly.

Home for about ten minutes, Ko dropped all his belongings in his room before departing down the block toward the Clover Café. He heard a aluminum baseball bat clash with a baseball a little further off. Someone was still working in the batting cages behind the café. Shrugging in response, Ko made his way into the cozy eatery, his stomach now growling with anticipation.

And there she was, clad in a kitchen apron. Aoba raised an eyebrow when she made eye contact with Ko. There was no one else in the café at the moment. Out of boredom, Aoba was fixing up a batch of noodles on the grill.

"You're out later than usual," noted Aoba.

"Yeah, thank God the café is so close to home," said Ko, seating himself on a stool in front of Aoba. "Who's batting out there?"

"Dad's having a little fitness freak-out," Aoba answered, a small smile creeping up the corner of her mouth. "I'm surprised. He can still hit his share of home runs."

"_Sou ka._ And what are you making there?" Ko asked, pointing to the batch of noodles.

"Guess."

"Your special porridge?"

Aoba glared at him before rolling her eyes.

"I'm kidding," Ko added. "Your Napolitan?"

Aoba looked at Ko once again before going to back to flip the reddening noodles. Another pinch of ketchup was mixed into the batch, along with some cream, before the diced up mushrooms and peppers were tossed in. Ko realized he never really knew what went into a Napolitan recipe, but so far, it seemed as if Aoba knew what she was doing.

"I'm not gonna die from this, right?" he continued to joke. Aoba glared at him again.

Last time he had Aoba's cooking, it actually wasn't a bad experience. When he tried to reason with Ichiyo why Aoba's Napolitan actually tasted decent for once, he earned himself a scolding.

"_You're bound to get better if you fail that many times,_" he said, taking a sip of iced water. "_Whether you like it or not._"

"_She tried her best to make it delicious, just for you,_" Ichiyo answered sternly, tipping the cup too far up, spilling some of the icy water onto his face.

"You want it or not?" Aoba grumbled as she continued to toss around the noodles.

"Yeah," Ko answered as genuinely as possible. Aoba seemed to have gotten the message. Ko noticed her mouth form into a cheery grin, but Aoba probably didn't know that Ko could see. Satisfied, Ko flopped down to the counter. "Gah, _so_ hungry…!"

"_Urusai na, _be patient like normal customers," Aoba droned. "If I didn't start on this before you came in, you'd wait even longer. So be grateful!"

"Roger that," Ko moaned out. "I am grateful."

After a few more minutes, Aoba dumped the contents of her cooking onto a ceramic plate and placed the Napolitan before Ko. Like a dog suffering from malnutrition, Ko inhaled deeply before the dish—wafting in all the aromas—gestured wildly at the assorted contents, and exaggerated his thanks with Aoba, effectively putting the girl in a state of bewilderment. With a chant of _itadakimasu_, he dug into the dish.

"_Umai,_" he whispered.

"Huh?"

"It's delicious," Ko repeated.

"Oh," Aoba responded quietly. She wasn't quite used to the compliments yet. More often than not, she'd expect Ko to insult her cooking in some way, prompting a quick and pointless argument between the two. For Ko to actually compliment her cooking, Aoba figured something was wrong with Ko or there was some other underlying factor. "Eat up. Your brain's probably broken from the hunger."

Ko paused and looked into her eyes. The effect froze Aoba.

"I'm serious," he said. "It tastes great."

"Even better than Ichi-nee's version?" Aoba inquired.

"Well—"

"Pfft, okay," she scoffed. "But thank you anyway."

"Wuz zat sharcashm?" Ko asked through a mouthful of noodles.

"No," she murmured, stifling a giggle. "Thanks, really."


	3. I'm Lucky

**III: I'm Lucky**

* * *

With a few steady ticks from a clock, summer vacation ended. Ko packed his bags and suited up for the second academic term of his final year at Seishu. What should he expect heading back to school? The baseball team's still there; however, their time at Koshien has expired. It was a triumphant run, of course, but that was already the peak for high school baseball. Ko peeked at an old aluminum bat that hung out of a closet of his. Blinking a couple of times while in thought, Ko started his way out his bedroom door.

"_Ittekimasu,_" he said out loud, glancing at two alarm clocks that sat on his desk.

Seishu High School was a modest school of average size—with mostly average students, average teachers, average staff, average extracurricular activities and average ratings—though with some standout points. Until the Seishu baseball team won at Koshien, no headlines really surged from the school. Now there was Ko, the fireball-throwing ace pitcher of ultimate power and control; Aoba, the one girl on the team, and a fireball-throwing pitcher of parallel power and control; Yuhei, one of the most feared power hitters in the league; and Osamu, the team captain and notoriously cunning catcher. In the making of a championship team, it could be said that all the starting members were above average—at least above average based on their in-game performances.

Ko strolled through the campus's main gates, his bag slung over his right shoulder, casually acknowledging the praises and compliments spewed out by nearby classmates and peers. By the school building's entrance, Aoba waited in the shade, coolly leaning against a concrete pillar.

"_Nice pitching at Koshien!_"

"_You're the best, Kitamura-senpai!_"

"_Show us your 160-kph fastball sometime!_"

As Ko progressed toward Aoba, the rowdy cheers gradually transformed into murmurs and rapid-firing words of gossip. When Ko's eyes met with Aoba's, the murmurs soon became all-out chatter.

"_Wait, is it true Kitamura-senpai and Tsukishima-senpai are dating now?_"

"_No way, I thought that was a rumor started by the baseball team—_"

"_Wasn't Tsukishima seeing someone else before?_"

"_I thought that was a rumor, too…_"

"_I see those two together all the time—_"

"_Just because their families are close doesn't mean they have to be close!_"

"_They held hands before—_"

"Gosh," Aoba mumbled as soon as Ko stopped at her side. She unfolded her arms and rested her hands on her hips. Then she pointed her index finger right between Ko's eyes. "Quite the celebrity now, aren't ya?"

"Same goes for you," Ko remarked, grabbing hold of her hand, prompting a loud gasp from the students around them. Hesitantly, he made a quick glance over his shoulder before chuckling quietly to Aoba. "Looks like we're famous now."

"Gee, I'm lucky to have you, Ki-ta-mu-ra. _Sen. Pai,_" Aoba declared loudly, pronouncing each and every syllable, causing the nearby students' murmurs to suddenly die down. Ko looked around with evident uneasiness as Aoba leaned in and broke her voice into a whisper. "You know I have a bunch of annoying admirers from all corners, right?"

A raucous sob echoed from somewhere in the student mass.

"I'm sure lucky then, right?" Ko countered, smiling earnestly.

Aoba scowled at Ko's mocking tone. With a brief "hmph," Aoba reversed the grip and yanked Ko along through the school's door, leaving behind a sea of relentless gossipers, brokenhearted classmates and overly curious devotees.

"You better keep all those other guys in line," Aoba stated gallantly. "It _is_ your job now."

"_Hai,_ Tsukishima _ojou-sama!_" Ko continued to joke.

"You don't regret this at all, do you?" Aoba suddenly said.

"What do you mean?" asked Ko, sensing the change in tone.

Aoba let go of Ko's arm and stopped by the bottom of the first-story staircase. A couple of students passed by, minding their own businesses. Ko tilted his head slightly, curious and relatively concerned.

"Don't you ever… get… the feeling… that…" she searched for her words with serious strain, helplessly pausing every few seconds. "That somehow… we're… betraying Waka-chan… by doing this…?"

Ko opened his mouth to respond, but he could not think of the proper way to answer right away. Aoba looked up into his eyes, the sincerity of her feelings genuine as portrayed by the glistening of her eyes. Ko had never seen Aoba so emotional on so many occasions before. He unintentionally drew tears from her a few times, but those occasions never caught him by surprise. This moment, though, he was ambushed.

"Do you?" Aoba asked again, blinking away the moistness in her eyes.

Ko tried to pull every bit of morality and virtue from deep within his heart and soul, hoping for an answer. Did he feel as if he was betraying Wakaba? Did he choose Aoba by mistake? Did Aoba choose him by mistake?

"Ko?"

"I—" he responded, his ears tingled when Aoba used his given name instead of his surname. "I don't think so… no. No. I don't. I don't think we're betraying Wakaba. No. Do you?"

"No," Aoba lied.

"All right then."

Really? she wanted to yell at Ko. You don't? Not even after all the love Waka-chan had shown you? She really loved you. How could you choose me? And I had the nerve to take you from her. And you _let _me.

Ko shifted his feet in silence as Aoba seemed to go into a daze. He reached for her hand, triggering a mild flinch from the girl.

"Well, if it's bothering you, we can talk about later. After practice. We'll go to your place or something," Ko suggested. "I'll make you a Napolitan."

"What?" Aoba stuttered in surprise.

"You don't want to talk?"

"No, I mean—" she started, then sighed heavily. "I'll see you at practice."

They exchanged goodbyes. Ko watched from the base of the staircase as Aoba made her way upstairs to her first class. In solitude, even with all the passing students, he unconsciously ignored the greetings and compliments some passersby offered. The solemn and profound expression on his face eventually signaled to classmates that he was in no mood to be praised.

"_You think they broke up?_"

"_Tsukishima-san probably dumped him._"

"_Kitamura-senpai could do so much better than her!_"

"_They always argue anyway—_"

Ko shot some of the gossipers looks of disapproval. He made his way through the maze of students, navigating down the hallways to his own class. The majority of students went about their own ways, though there were always small handfuls that continued to gossip incessantly.

"Geez, she doesn't hate me _that_ much," Ko chuckled to himself.

But he had no idea Aoba felt that way. It was surprising, even for him. For the most part, he understood Aoba exactly the way she is: a pitcher, a competitor, a friend, a sister, a loved one. A girl. And he knew, on the opposite end, Aoba understood him as well. Even if they both keep the attributes hidden from one another—at least on the outside—they still know nonetheless.

Ko sat down in his assigned seat and looked out the window, down at the empty baseball field as his teacher began roll call.


End file.
